The Onion Prince
by Days of Azure
Summary: RF ToD: Bismark has been keeping a secret. When someone discovers it he unravels entirely, and it seems that only Aden can reach him. Yaoi, M/M, rating may change
1. Chapter 1

The Onion Prince

By Day of Azure

Chapter One: Not This Way

Aden's arms were beginning to ache. Every rise and strike of the heavy hammer only seemed to add to the dull pain that had begun to form in them, and it had spread from the muscles in his upper arms to his shoulders and neck. He'd completed his 15th broadsword for an order that Beatrix had placed for the Warrior's Festival, and he had worked late into the night. A deep black blue filled his home's windows where daylight had dwelled a few hours earlier. Even with his workaholic tendencies, Aden knew when he was due for a break.

He slowly placed the black top of the hammer flat upon the floor, its long wooden handle resting against the workshop's unpainted walls. Aden leaned against the walls for support as well. Sweat had formed in small beads across his face and exposed skin, and his naked chest heaved with an exhaustion that could only come from hours of hard work. He slid down the wall and sprawled across the hardwood floor in a single, lazy motion. His limbs separated and grew limp. It was a wonderful feeling, and he felt he'd earned it.

The lit fluorescent bulb that hung in the ceiling lamp above him-a flimsy, homemade appliance with a plastic shade that hung from a chain-was beginning to burn its outline into Aden's vision. His lids flung shut and his senses heightened in the darkness. The deep, long breaths were beginning to slow and were returning to the quiet, steady inhales of a still person. He was oddly comfortable here: on his back, on the wooden floor of his workshop in a borrowed home on an island of people he'd only begun to know in the dead of night. But this sense of serenity was rare to Aden, so he did his best not to threaten it with questions or analysis.

The quiet moment was shattered by a rustling noise that came from the direction of the home's southeast window. Aden brought the upper half of his body upward so that it met his waist at a 90 degree angle. There were birds, winds and a multitude of other harmless sources that might cause a rustling in the dead of night, but he was alert and on guard nonetheless. Before he had time to rise to his feet, a loud crack that reminded him of splitting wood came from the same direction. It was followed by a loud thud, some more rustling, and footsteps that quickly grew softer with each passing second as though they were fleeing.

There was no time to spare searching for his shirt, which had been carelessly thrown onto the floor amongst scraps of wood and metal whittled down to sizes and shapes that rendered them unusable. Mikoto had thwarted more than a handful of planned burglaries in her time on the island and was always reminding residents to stay vigilant. It would be a sleepless night if he were to let a potential intruder flee after giving themselves away so carelessly.

He scrambled to his feet and darted towards the front door, his body adorned in only a worn pair of work jeans and his house slippers. He flung it open and slammed it so hard that it sent a small vibration through the walls of his house, and he felt it in the ground through his nearly-bare feet. The moon was but a thin sliver in the sky with little light to offer, and he could barely make out the cracks between the cobblestones that paved the Inn area.

Directly across from his home was the general store, and on the floor above that the residence of twins Sierra and Bismark. Two candles in tall, iron holders burned in the first floor windows and they added a crucial touch of light to the area, for which Aden felt quite thankful. There was no visible sign of life from where he was standing, so he closed his eyes and listened closely, a skill had served him well during his ventures at sea. He picked up the faint sound of footsteps and made himself as still and quiet as possible.

He could make out their point of origin as it moved further from him. The sound of the steps was coming from behind his home, which aside from the small back yard on his property consisted of a steep cliff that overlooked a deep part of the ocean surrounding Fenith Island. The only possibility this left was for the intruder to be running down a narrow path that lead to the island's smallest and most popular beach, and the only other accessible land located behind Aden's home.

With his destination determined, he sprinted around the corner of his home and down the path. On the right side there was a high rising cliff made of rock that appeared pitch black in the darkness. The left side of the path overlooked the ocean and was dotted with pieces of simple, black iron fence that stood four and a half feet high. He could see the beach with its sand glowing white in the moonlight and the dark water that lapped at it in gentle, steady waves. It grew closer with each stride down the path, and although the footsteps had dissipated into silence and there was no person visible in the distance in front of him, Aden could swear he felt eyes following his movements.

The slapping of his slippers against the concrete pavement silenced as he took his first steps onto the beach. A quick survey of his surroundings revealed nothing but silhouettes of palm trees and the pitch black shadows cast by the surrounding earth. It was a small stretch of beach, as the rocky cliffs that covered Fenith encircled it on both sides, leaving no potential exits aside from the path Aden had taken to reach it. The object of his pursuit had slim chances of escaping.

"I promise not to harm you. There's no place left for you to run, so you're best off revealing yourself." Despite the fear and excitement that thundered within him, Aden did his best to speak in a calm voice that was just loud enough for any lurkers in the shadows to hear. His promise was genuine, too. He might have to restrain them and haul them into Mikoto's for whatever punishment she might have in store, but he had never intentionally brought physical harm to a human being without being harmed first, and he didn't intend to change that as long as he could help it.

The air was thick with tension, as though something under pressure was about to burst. Aden could sense it and continued to turn his head sharply back and forth as to allow for a thorough survey of his surroundings. His right hand had found the handle of his Katana and was now clutching it with urgency. It was true that he had no intentions of harming anyone, but Aden was no pacifist. Ancient temples, monster-filled islands, thieves and intruders had left him no choice but to become comfortable with the art of self-defense.

Just when he'd been considering roaming through the patches of shadow to search himself, a blurry figure burst forth from the darkness against the wall of the cliff and zipped by Aden's side and towards the path at his back that led back into town, back into a place of many hiding spots and eventual freedom for a thief. It was rather unlucky for this "thief" that his desperate try at escape proved no match for Aden's reflexes and strength. Aden turned on his heels, formed a good grip on the person's arm, and in one, swift motion brought them to the ground with a heavy sounding thud.

"Bismark?" Aden's intense rage morphed into confusion, which then dissolved into a kind of sympathy. The soft spoken shop keeper was nearly trembling on the ground before him. His knees were bent and his head was down in something that resembled a fetal position. His breaths were sharp and loud and reminded Aden more of gasping repeatedly than breathing. The large, golden eyes that darted nervously in every direction but that of Aden's perplexed face looked wet with held back tears.

It was instantly apparent to Aden that Bismark was no thief or home intruder. He had undoubtedly been peering into Aden's window, and Aden's discovery of him he left him frightened enough to flee, but why? What the people of Fenith whispered to one another in secret was true: Bismark was anti-social, mysterious and strange. But Aden knew him better than most, and he also knew it was true that Bismark was kind, reliable and worthy of trust. "Bismark?" he repeated, this time his tone gentle and patient instead of teeming with shock.

"I'm sorry," he spoke at last, his voice tiny and barely audible. "I'm so sorry." His second apology came out with more expression, and his voice sounded broken with sobs that were about to emerge.

The situation was beginning to sink in to Aden. He lowered himself onto one knee, where his eyes could meet Bismark's on an even level. "What are you sorry about? Why were you outside my window in the dead of night?" He was doing his best to keep his questions sounding more curious than accusatory. It appeared to be in vain though, as Bismark's whimpers exploded into the sounds of weeping, and Aden was taken aback. "Hey, don't cry. I promise I'm not angry. I won't report you to Gerald or Mikoto, either. I'd just like to know what you were doing, and why you ran off so quickly."

He extended an arm and lightly brushed away the long, brown bangs that clung to Bismark's sweaty forehead. He thought of Sonja for a moment, of how clumsy and sensitive she was as a child and how he'd pat her head to comfort her for every bruise and scrape. There was something childlike about Bismark, even when he wasn't reduced to crying in a fetal ball on the ground. Aden guessed it might be way he smiled at simple things like French fries , or perhaps the innocence he seemed to possess, or maybe it was the way his words and actions always meant exactly what they seemed to be; Bismark didn't hide lies or schemes or manipulation in his words like most adults.

"Don't!" Bismark recoiled after the hand had been stroking his head for a few seconds. Hurt showed in Aden's expression for just a moment, long enough for Bismark to catch it and fill with guilt at the sight. The gesture had been too kind and too gentle, it reminded the shy boy of what he wanted most and what he could never have, and that hurt worse than any act of aggression ever could. He wished Aden would furiously arrest him. He wished he were capable of looking him in the eyes and telling him that he was a thief or a crook and had been plotting a break-in. He wished the tree branch had never buckled beneath his weight so he wouldn't have to.

"Bismark, calm down! It's alright!" Aden was shouting now, despite what he knew was the best way to handle the situation. Bismark was losing it. The grown boy, the dependable general store manager renowned for his long hours and meticulous work, was weeping like a child and couldn't seem to relax enough to make a coherent statement. He seemed unstable in his present state, and it was causing Aden to feel both frustrated and frightened.

"I'm sorry Aden," he managed to get out. "It's just that I…I didn't want you to find out this way." A flood continued to poor from his eyes. He raised his head and met Aden's eyes for the first time since their encounter had begun. "I never wanted you to know. You can't know how I…I…"

Even for a face coated in moonlight, Bismark looked pale. His words had stopped coming mid-sentence and his vision had drifted away from Aden's face and was taking in the stars and the moon directly above him. It was such a beautiful sight that he barely noticed when his back had hit the sand, and the blackness that was forming around the edges of his view seemed natural, logical, as though his mind had chosen to end the act and close the curtain. "Bismark!" Aden cried out, and Bismark could hear it from a distance. Aden yelling his name, fearful and with great concern. Somewhere inside he smiled. After that, it was only unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

An Awkward Awakening

By Days of Azure

A/N: Thank you very much for the reviews, guys! I initially wrote the first chapter of The Onion Prince not expecting to write more, but finding out that there are people who are enjoying my story really motivated me to keep writing. I agree that there is an unfortunate dearth of Aden x Bismark fanfiction out there, especially since Bismark is my favorite Rune Factory/Harvest Moon character ever. I find him totally adorable and dedicate this fic to fellow Bismark lovers. Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy, and please review if you do (or even if you didn't and have criticism to offer).

Consciousness was steadily creeping up on Bismark, though he was feeling far from oriented. The world was dark and faint. His limp, weak body laid unmoving and cradled within something. Or someone, perhaps? He could feel small movements that reminded him of footsteps and two warm hooks around his body that seemed to resemble arms. He felt like a child yet again. For a moment, he wasn't so sure that he wasn't. It had been a long time since he'd experienced the sensation of being held against another human being, and it felt nearly surreal to him.

He could feel his senses returning. It had begun with touch, with perceiving the warm chest against which his body rested and the arms that supported his small frame. It was an early spring night which possessed a breeze that left the exposed skin upon his face and neck chilled. Then came his auditory perception, the sounds of the island's nightlife, of cicadas, crickets and restless birds chirping from their homes in the abundant forests and shrubbery. His eyelids felt too heavy to open, and he wasn't quite aware enough yet to feel that a look at his surroundings was vital.

Memory was the last thing to return to Bismark. Specifically, the memory of where he'd been in the moment when consciousness had slipped out of his grasp, and who had been present to witness it. His awakening mind put the pieces together and he immediately realized that he was being carried somewhere, almost certainly by Aden. The very last person he wanted to be defenseless before and the last person he wanted to end up having to depend upon.

Panic struck him abruptly and mercilessly at the realization, and it caused his body to tense. He silently prayed it wasn't perceivable to Aden. He attempted to determine his options, which only caused his panic to intensify. Playing unconscious felt tempting, and yet a single sneeze or accidental movement would give him away. There was also the option of opening his eyes, speaking and eventually going home where he could find the solitude he craved. But that didn't guarantee that the issue of why he'd been lurking outside Aden's window would be left alone. And then was the way his body was beginning to react to being so close to Aden's warm, naked chest….

Just when he was beginning to think that the rapid thumping of his heart would give him away, he was gently placed upon a solid surface. Removed from Aden's arms, he finally found the will to open his eyes. It didn't take long for him to recognize the wooden blue doors that sat side by side, or the potted ferns that Sierra had picked out. This was the balcony above the general store, the only place with an entrance to Sierra and Bismark's small living quarters. Aden's back was to him, for which he was grateful. He was standing in front of Sierra's bedroom door.

Bismark watched covertly as Aden raised his left arm and clenched his fingers into a well formed fist. He made his first attempt at beckoning Sierra to the door with three simple, evenly spaced knocks that were met with silence. Through nineteen years of living with his twin sister, Bismark had discovered that Sierra was an extremely heavy sleeper, a trait that seemed to fit uncannily well with her fun first, work later philosophy. It had frustrated him to a state of enragement in the past, when he'd return from errands to find the store empty and Sierra sound asleep, but for the first time in his life he did not mind it.

Aden's knocking had evolved from small bursts of tapping at the door to a steady stream of pounding. "Sierra! Wake up!" he shouted. "It's Bismark!" There was panic in his voice, and it dawned on Bismark that there was no way he could escape the situation and that pretending to be unconscious was useless and cruel. He'd calmed considerably since regaining his consciousness, and despite the butterflies in his stomach and the gnawing feeling that he was about to leap from a cliff, he knew it was time to speak.

"I'm awake now, Aden." The words came out sounding almost tranquil, and it surprised the anxious brunette. Aden jumped slightly at the unexpected sound and turned his head to look over his shoulder with an expression of astonishment. His now conscious brunette friend was still lying in the same spot upon the concrete balcony where Aden had placed him moments ago. "Sierra's impossible to wake."

"I noticed," Aden replied with a frown. Bismark was in a sitting position now, with his arms wrapped across his chest protectively. It was strange to see him awake after what had happened at the beach, and Aden was at a loss for what to do. If it were Joe or Odette or Sierra who'd been sneaking around his home in the middle of the night he'd drill them mercilessly until they reveled whatever silly plot or prank they'd most likely be planning. But Bismark was no prankster, and his emotional collapse at Aden's discovery left him feeling cautious and unsure of how to handle the situation. "Can you stand?" the taller, silver haired boy inquired. Instinctively he wanted to move towards him, to extend a hand and help him to his feet, but he was afraid of triggering the fear he'd seen before.

"I think so." There was a feeling of feebleness in his body that left him uncertain, but Bismark would sooner sleep outside on the concrete balcony then have Aden pick him up again. Surprisingly, he found that standing came quickly and easily once his feet were planted firmly on the ground. He stumbled briefly before catching himself. "I'm a little groggy, but I feel alright."

Aden smiled weakly in a feeble attempt at lightening the mood. "You gave me a big scare back there. I almost went to the Inn to wake up Rose. Sure you're okay?" His concern made Bismark feel even more timid, and he responded with a small nod and reddened cheeks made obvious by the bright moonlight. A few awkward seconds slipped by between them in which no one spoke. "What…was that? You passing out, I mean. Do you have an illness?" Though he suspected this wasn't the case, it was still a possibility that frightened him.

"No, I've experienced passing out several times since I was a child. It's unrelated to illness," he assured. Aden couldn't read his face as he spoke, and it appeared rather blank. The smaller boy's unwillingness to elaborate left Aden's suspicions heightened. He studied the nervous face, his contracted posture, crossed arms and darting eyes that all spoke of how uneasy he felt.

"I see…that's a relief, then." Aden turned his gaze to the moon. The edge was beginning to slip behind a thick, wispy cloud, and the light it cast upon the shadowy earth was growing dimmer. Contradictory thoughts swirled inside of him. He was brimming with curiosity and the desire to pry for answers, but another part of him wanted nothing more than to sweep the incident under the rug, to keep his friend comfortable and safe from the feelings he'd witnessed earlier. He didn't know what it meant that Bismark had been watching him at night, but he knew that the shy shopkeeper was in no state to discuss it now.

"You should go inside and get some rest," he spoke wearily. It required a great deal of willpower not to add "we can talk about what happened later," but he managed. Not that he'd decided to drop the matter.

"You're right. I think I should." Bismark moved towards the door to his home with a telling swiftness. He met Aden's gaze just long enough to add, "I'm sorry about earlier. And thank you for everything." He didn't smile, but the blank expression on his face somehow seemed to reveal vulnerability now.

That was another thing about Bismark that Aden felt distinguished him from most of the other island residents and made him worth trusting, worth spending the time slowly getting to know despite how quiet and difficult to understand he was at times. No matter the circumstances, Bismark never forgot to be polite, and not just in a habitual way but in a way that reflected how he considered the feelings of the people around him.

"No apology or thanks necessary. I'll talk to you later, Bismark. Goodnight." The brunette responded with another shy nod that Aden had come to consider a likeable quirk before he extracted his keys from his pocket, unlocked the door and headed inside.

He was surprised at the mix of relief and concern that washed over him as soon as the door had shut behind Bismark, leaving him alone with his thoughts at last. Things would be different between them now. You couldn't see somebody - specifically somebody you knew as a composed, stable individual - crumble to a state of weeping and pleading and perceive them in the same light. He could never bring it up again, and perhaps things would return to where they had been before between them, but Aden wasn't about to let that happen for both of their sakes.

The walk home had felt longer than usual, and Aden was so deep in thought that he nearly missed the broken tree branch he hadn't had the time to inspect earlier. As he'd suspected, the large maple outside his home was missing a thick branch that had provided a view into his workshop. The jagged outline of split wood at the tip of a stub where the branch had broken looked ugly, and Aden made a mental note to remove it during the daytime.

Inside he considered drawing the curtains, but decided not to. He trusted Bismark, and he wanted him to know it. Closing off all outside views into his house would send a contrary message, one Bismark would be sure to notice.

The concerns about thieves and break-ins had melted away, but sleep was still difficult that night. Bismark was on his mind. Very little of what had happened earlier made any sense. He still had no inkling as to what Bismark had been hoping to gain by watching him in his workshop, and his meltdown on the beach was even more baffling. What was he so sorry about? The only thing Aden felt certain of was that something was definitely weighing on his friend, and he needed help. Though he wanted to be the one to offer it, Aden had to admit to himself that he may not be the right person.

Sleep was beginning to creep up on him, and he welcomed it. There was little he could do now by keeping himself awake with worry. Tomorrow he was going to visit a friend, and someone who he suspected might help him find answers, or at least point him in the right directions. Bismark's tear streaked face was the last image to pass through his mind before he fell into the depths of slumber.

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Wow, I just want to say thank you so much for the kind, thoughtful reviews! They've really boosted my confidence in my writing abilities and motivated me to make progress with the story. Bismark isn't in this chapter but he'll definitely be back in chapter 4! I hope this chapter isn't too slow or boring. As always, reviews and criticism are welcome. Thanks very much all!

The Onion Prince

Chapter 3

By Days of Azure

Aden had a lot of strengths. He was brave, loyal and hardworking. That appealed to people, and his kind, laidback demeanor made them comfortable. Friendships came easily to him, and there wasn't a single person on Fenith whom he suspected of disliking him.

This wasn't to say that he was faultless, or even great with people for that matter. He was also capable of being very insensitive. It was difficult for him to read people and their subtle signals. He'd hurt feelings and crushed hearts just by being oblivious to the emotions of others in the past, so he'd decided that in handling this delicate matter with Bismark, it would be best to seek a little outside input.

The person that he chose had to meet several requirements. They needed to have a good understanding of human behavior, and they needed to be sharp in their analysis of it. They had to know Bismark and have at least a neutral opinion of him. Perhaps most importantly, they had to be trustworthy. Aden felt guilty enough about deciding to share last night's events with one individual and would never be able to forgive himself if Bismark's breakdown became the latest fodder for town gossips.

He left home at 7 AM the next morning, almost certain that they would be awake by now. He passed Sierra as she swept the sidewalk outside of the general store. She offered the same smile and enthusiastic "G'Morning!" that that she did nearly every morning, oblivious to the knowledge that he'd been banging on her bedrooms door only a few hours ago. Aden couldn't help but feel as though he were hiding something from her and managed only a quick wave in her direction before heading into the Inn across the general store.

The Inn didn't begin serving food until early afternoon, but Odette rarely bothered to keep the front door locked. She felt there were too many of the Inn's residents coming and going and too little risk to bother. An odor of cooking oil and spices flooded Aden's sinuses as soon as he took his first steps inside. Lily smiled brightly at him from behind the bar counter as she swept, and Odette emerged from the kitchen donned in a grease smeared apron. "Hey there," she greeted as she wiped her hands with her apron, adding an orange smear to the once-white cloth.

"Hey, Odette. I see you're at it already," Aden remarked, noting his friend's slightly ragged breaths and the bangs across her forehead that looked dampened with sweat. He was really fond of Odette, in a platonic sort of way. She was calm and sensible, most of the time. With Rose's timidity and Lily's absentmindedness Aden thought it was lucky that Odette was the one charged with managing the Inn.

She offered a small giggle. "You know me. Not that I could afford to rest even if I wanted to. Are you here for business or are you just being friendly?"

"Actually, I'm looking for Sonja." Ever since she'd regained her own body, Sonja had taken up residence at the Inn. She often spent her mornings sipping tea or coffee on the first floor and chatting with Lily and Odette as they prepared the Inn for lunch. With the way his luck had been lately, Aden wasn't surprised that Sonja wasn't around when he urgently needed to talk to her.

Odette cocked her head as though she were trying to remember something. "I know I saw her leave this morning, but I don't think she said where she was going." This left Aden feeling only slightly discouraged. There weren't too many places where Sonja could be at this hour of the morning, and he knew her well enough to have a good first guess as to where she might be on a beautiful, warm spring morning.

"Thanks, Odette. If you see her around, tell her I'm looking for her." He said brief farewells to his friends and left the Inn with a new destination in mind. He couldn't help but glance at the general store on his way out and wonder how Bismark was doing, what sort of thoughts were running through his head this morning as he stocked the shelves and tidied the store. Aden felt almost nervous about seeing him again, and Aden wasn't the sort to get nervous about seeing anyone. He couldn't imagine himself walking into the store and placing an order like he always did, or even making light banter with Bismark.

When he neared the ancient oak tree outside just outside the walls of the De Saint Coquille mansion, he spotted her. She was seated in the shaded grass beneath the leaves with her knees pulled up to her chest and a book in her right hand. This was the first place they'd seen together on Fenith Island, when their time in the same body had begun. Aden thought it was a little odd that she spent so much time here.

She looked so serene that he almost hesitated to interrupt her. "Hi, Sonja." It took her not a split second to recognize the voice addressing her, and when she glanced up from her book a soft smile appeared on her face.

"Aden. Care to take a seat?" She patted a flat, grassy patch of earth across from her, and he gladly obliged. The ground was a little cold and dewy.

"How have you been?" Aden asked, and he truly wanted to know. "It must be nice not to spend your mornings picking crops and milking Buffamoos anymore." He thought she looked a little sad at this.

"It's not as nice as I thought it would be, but I've been good. What brings you by? I know you aren't just coming to say hi." Aden winced at the truth and the hurt in her words. It was true that he hadn't made much of an effort to stay close since they'd stopped sharing a body. He reminded himself that it was this intuition of Sonja's that made her the perfect person to talk to about Bismark. "Something's wrong," she said before he could speak.

"How'd you guess?" He asked, slightly taken aback, and it surprised him when Sonja's face lit up in response.

"You kidding me? I've known you since we were little kids. We used to share a body. I can see it from a mile away when something's troubling you and you need to talk. Now spill it," she demanded with a grin, and for the first time since their conversation had begun, Aden felt at ease.

After swearing her to secrecy, he began the story by telling of how he'd been lying in his workshop late at night when he heard the tree branches breaking and the fleeing footsteps. As he continued into the details of how he'd hunted Bismark down at the beach where he'd been hiding, her expression began to transform from one of excitement to an uneasy look marked by a tight lipped frown. The details of Bismark's pleading, sobbing and eventually passing out left her looking downright distressed, and when it was over she looked away from Aden and was silent, as though she were taking a few moments to digest the story.

The silver haired boy sighed, feeling as though he'd been relieved of some of the weight he carried. Telling Sonja somehow made the events of last night seem concrete, and there was also the unspoken truth that by passing on the knowledge to her he was putting the responsibility for Bismark's fate in her hands as well. If something were to happen to Bismark, or if Bismark were to do something drastic, Aden didn't think he could handle the weight of it alone.

"'I didn't want you to find out this way'," she repeated Bismark's words when she finally spoke. "What do you think he doesn't want you to find out?" Sonja had a few guesses, but she kept them to herself. She was reminded of Rose and how obvious her feelings for Aden had been when he'd first come to the island, and how he'd responded with complete and utter obliviousness. Deciphering people's behavior was not a skill of Aden's.

"I'm not sure," he answered truthfully. "He seemed so…unstable when I found him. It makes me wonder if he was hiding from someone, or if he's in some kind of trouble." The thought made him tense. Until last night, Aden hadn't realized just how much he valued Bismark. "If that's the case, then I want to help him."

Bismark _was_ in trouble, just not the kind of trouble Aden was talking about, Sonya thought to herself. There was only one explanation for Bismark's behavior that she could think of, given that he was too noble a person to plot or spy. An idea struck her. "Aden, what were you wearing when you were in your workshop?"

Aden was baffled by the seemingly irrelevant question. "I had to run after him in just my work jeans and slippers. But what the heck does that have to do with anything?"

Sonja had to suppress a snicker at the question. She kept waiting for the obvious realization to come crashing down on him, but he held the same confused expression. Sheesh, the boy was dense. Or maybe it just didn't occur to him that boys might find other boys attractive. Either way she had already decided to let him figure it out for himself. It sounded like Bismark was an emotional wreck over the thick headed boy, and Sonja thought that their interaction might bring good things for them. Bismark was lonely and had a hard time connecting with most people. Anyone with an ounce of perception could see that. Aden's loneliness was a little trickier to spot, but Sonja knew it was there.

"Never mind. But you're right about Bismark being in trouble." She hesitated for a moment. The idea of lying to her dear friend troubled her, but she knew it would be much harder to nudge Aden into contact with Bismark if he knew the truth. She made a difficult decision. "We don't really know what's going on, but I think one thing is clear. Bismark needs help, and he trusted you enough to let you know. Whatever he's in must be complicated, and it might take time to get him to talk to you about it, but I think you owe it to him to at least try to find out."

It was the response Aden had expected to hear, and much of it matched the thoughts that had been swirling in his head since last night. He felt resolute, and gave her a compliant nod. "Yeah, I do owe it to him to try to find out. I'm not going to do the easy thing and look the other way. He's my friend," Aden declared in a soft tone. But a problem lingered. "And right now, he knows I know he's hiding something. What if he just avoids me? You know how Bismark is."

Sonja did know how Bismark was. In her nineteen years she'd yet to meet a shyer, more cautious person. Fortunately, she'd already thought of a solution. "The Bachelor and Bachelorette Auction this weekend? Sierra volunteered him. He can't avoid you if you buy his time," she suggested with a grin that Aden thought was a bit too wide.

The Bachelor and Bachelorette Auction was an event islanders had begun hosting two years ago to raise money for the church, which stuck Aden as bit inappropriate. It was a horrid affair in which embarrassed individuals were made to stand on stage to be auctioned off like cattle to a gawking audience in the name of charity. Each bachelor and bachelorette was auctioned individually, and the highest bidder was awarded three hours of time together. Aden cringed at the thought of Bismark shuffling awkwardly into the sight of a large crowd, eyes on his feet. "Poor Bismark. I'll be there," he agreed with certainty. "We'll spend the evening together and I'll just see how he's doing. If it feels like the right time to ask what's going on, I will. But if he gets panicky, I'm not going to press the issue."

"A good plan," Sonja remarked. She was beginning to feel like some kind of matchmaker, and in the back of her mind she wondered if she wasn't taking into account the delicateness of the situation enough. The thought of ways in which things might go wrong kept creeping up on her, threatening to break her excitement, but she kept them down by focusing on Aden.

He remained by her side beneath the oak tree on the grass damp with morning dew for a little while longer, and they made light conversation that Sonja suspected Aden was engaging in out of a feeling of obligation. He was too kind to leave immediately after receiving the advice he needed, regardless of whether or not he desired conversation. Nevertheless, she couldn't deny that it was felt nice to talk to him again.

Sonja stayed beneath the oak tree for several hours after Aden left to go on about his business, his life that had become so separate from hers. When a warm, spring rain passed overhead she sat against the tree trunk. She couldn't recall the last time he'd seemed so impassioned. It was a bittersweet feeling.


	4. Chapter 4

A/n: So this chapter is pretty overdue, and I apologize. I suffered a bit of writer's block but have regained my inspiration, which I partially owe to the wonderful and encouraging reviews I received for my last chapter. I do put a lot of thought into my writing, and I attempt to write deep, compelling characters, and the fact that this has been noticed and appreciated in the reviews means a lot to me. As always I welcome criticism as well as praise and thank you for taking the time to leave feedback, or even just for taking the time to read my story. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 4

Bismark was grateful for the gentle, gradual wakening brought on by warm sunlight across his face that morning. It certainly set a more pleasant tone for the day than the wake up calls he was accustomed to, like Sierra's fists beating out obnoxious rhythms from the other side of his door or the shrill buzz of his alarm clock. His thoughts felt hazy and blank as he came out of what he felt must've been a heavy slumber, and as always his mind took a few moments to assemble a complete analysis of his state. No alarm clock meant the store was closed, which meant it was most likely a holiday.

The auction. Not more than five seconds from when he awoke did he wish he hadn't.

He'd been dreading today since the unfortunate afternoon when Beatrix had been in the church square soliciting volunteers for the church's charity Bachelor and Bachelorette auction. Sierra had taken a firm grasp on his wrist and pulled him forward, and before he could squeeze a word in she had volunteered him. Beatrix, armed with an unusually well behaved Quinn and Kelsey to remind people that the well-being of orphans was at stake, had made such a show of gratitude that he felt declining was impossible, despite his dread. He couldn't decide whether to curse his own meekness or his sister's well intended attempts at forcing him to be more social.

He felt for his glasses on the oak stand by his bed and gradually, reluctantly left the warmth beneath his thick comforter. An icy draft swept across the wooden floors through the tiny gap at the bottom of his front door, and it nearly pained his bare feet when they made their first contact. His entire room seemed to be filled with chilly air as he made his way to the room's only window. With trepidation, he peeled back the lower corner of the thin cotton curtain and peered outside. It would soon be 8 AM, and it showed in the pale morning light that covered the modest buildings and paved street outside his window. It was complemented by a cloudless blue sky that felt oddly as though it were mocking him. He would have preferred something parallel to his mood, like a booming thunderstorm.

A few days had passed since his encounter with Aden, and each time Bismark began to obtain any sense of calmness, the memory of that night would encroach upon it and his stomach would return to being in knots. Aden had seemed so unexpectedly kind and understanding, and it made him wonder if he had any inkling of the truth. He was a bright boy, but he was also naïve and thick headed, and knowing this gave Bismark hope that Aden was as in the dark as Bismark hoped he was about his feelings. The thought of an alternative occurred to him, and he quickly extinguished it before his mind could give it life. He let the corner of fabric pinched between his thumb and forefinger free and watched as the curtain fell back into place, once again shielding his room from the outside world.

He often found himself envisioning that night and imagining himself turning away from Aden's lit window, or shifting his weight onto a more stable branch that wouldn't break, or even safely outrunning him, as though if he imagined hard enough he might be able to change the way things had turned out and save himself from his present predicament. Bismark had meant what he'd said, that he hadn't wanted Aden to find out that way. He didn't want Aden to know that he'd developed feelings for him, whatever those feelings might be. Bismark couldn't tell for sure if they resembled love or lust or something in between, but he knew they'd driven him to Aden's window that night, made him want to watch and be near him whenever it was possible.

It had started at a time when Aden and Sonja hadn't separated, when Aden was new to Fenith and no more than a neighbor to Bismark. That had all changed quickly thanks to Aden's friendly nature and determination in making friends with the quiet shopkeeper. When Sonja and Bismark's "dates" began at Aden's insistence for the purpose of helping Bismark develop better social skills with the opposite sex (if only Aden had known it was him who'd had Bismark so tongue tied, him who Bismark really pretended he was dating and not Sonya), it amazed him that someone would go that far to draw him out of his shell and befriend him. He went to all of Fenith's holiday events, and everyone on the island was friendly towards him, but it wasn't until Aden had forced his way into a friendship with the brunette that he had realized he'd held a deep loneliness and a craving for connection that only Aden seemed to fill. It had been so easy to fall for him.

Someone with more courage and less intelligence probably would've just confessed their adoration, but not Bismark. He knew that the silver haired object of his affection was the object of many other's affections and could be with just about any girl on the island. He also knew that it was almost certain that Aden had never dated or done anything sexual with another male before, and highly unlikely still that the thought had never crossed his mind, though Bismark had to admit that he couldn't be sure of this.

But above all the logical reasons he saw to keep quiet, it was fear that truly made him cling to his refusal to come clean to Aden about how he felt, about why he'd been quietly spying on Aden as he worked in his home. Beyond the already horrifying thought of romantic rejection was the fear that Aden would reject not only his romantic feelings, but him as a whole person. Something inside of Bismark insisted that Aden would surely see him as a heinous freak and that it would be the end of their relationship entirely, the end of what Bismark had come to think of as the most joy inducing thing he'd ever experienced in his entire life. Even if the feelings inside of him never came to any fruition, it was almost enough just to be near him and to be someone who Aden cared for. The thought of losing that and being resented by the one he loved nearly destroyed him.

It took a lot of strength to manage the harsh, conflicting emotions that had roused within him since that night, and in a brief moment he was almost grateful for the distraction today's auction would bring. Almost. He shuddered at the thought of standing on stage as a desperate auctioneer attempted to rouse bids out of a silent, disinterested audience. There was a chance that Aden might be there, but it was a slim one. He hadn't been present during the last two annual bachelor and bachelorette auctions, and Bismark had his fingers crossed for a third year of absence.

He went to his dresser and selected the same orange-brown slacks, crisp white shirt, vest and tie that he wore to the general store each day as well as on most holidays. He may have been coerced into participating but that didn't mean he had to do so with enthusiasm, Bismark reasoned as he combed his thick, chestnut hair into its everyday style. A timid looking boy bearing a blank expression stared back at him from the mirror atop his dresser. For a moment, he thought he might crack beneath the weight of everything.

Three strong knocks at the door startled him out of his deep thought. "Oi, Bismark!" It was a voice that was more than familiar. "You're supposed to be in the church plaza by nine! You better not be trying to get out of being a bachelor…" A smile could be heard in her voice as it trailed off. _If only that were an option_, Bismark thought miserably as he moved towards the door as slowly as possible. When he undid the bolt and swung it open it was Sierra standing in his doorway donned in her typical attire, save for an unfamiliar grey scarf that was wrapped loosely around her neck. He admired it quietly. Their love of accessories was one of a small number of traits they shared, despite being twins.

"Morning," Bismark managed as he rubbed his eyes that had not been prepared for the burst of bright daylight that had entered his room when he opened the door. His sister returned his greeting with silence and slid by him and into his room, uninvited. She took a few steps back and examined him from head to toe. An expression of mild disappointment formed upon her face immediately.

"Biz, don't you think you should wear something…different from your everyday clothes? Today is a day to look your best, y'know?" She was holding back the urge to rummage through his dresser drawers for an alternative outfit but kept reminding herself that she was lucky he was going through with it at all. Bismark let out an exasperated sigh that let her know she wasn't going to get her way. "Okay, okay, never mind! I was just trying to be helpful," she said, not allowing him a chance to shoot her down.

"I'm awake and I can dress myself. You don't have to worry so much, I wouldn't duck out of a promise I made for charity," he said truthfully, cursing his moral standards mentally. There was an annoyance within him that he couldn't deny, but he loved his sister and was well aware that it was always her love for him that pushed him to do the things that made him uncomfortable, even if she was completely tactless at times.

"I didn't come here just to check up on you." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a flat, round object encased in a crinkly sheet of tissue paper. There was a bright smile on her face as she handed it to Bismark, who took it with wonder. He had no inkling of what it might be, but the gesture moved him.

"What's the occasion?" Sierra was still smiling, obviously pleased.

"No occasion, really. I'm just glad that you're doing this. Now open it!" she demanded with a childlike enthusiasm, and Bismark happily obliged and tore off the wrapping. Contained within the tissue paper was an accessory that was instantly recognizable, and certainly homemade based on the slightly uneven stitching that his sharp eyes immediately caught. "Marewen's been giving me some crafting lessons. Do you like it?"

He eyed the star symbol that was stitched onto a round navy emblem with stiff, small white wings extending from the left and right side. "It's a courage badge…you remembered when I said I wanted one. I love it," he said genuinely as he continued to examine the homemade gift with a dazed expression. Sierra took it from his hands and opened the pin that was visible on the backside. She moved closer to him and attached it to the left side of his vest with nimble hands.

"It's not like you need it, but I wanted to make something for you." When she wrapped her arms around him in a warm hug, he returned it. Her gift and visit had left his spirits feeling lifted. Maybe today wouldn't be so difficult after all. He thanked her and saw her out with more optimism than he'd felt all day.

When he arrived at the church square, he was pleased to see that the turnout was rather modest so far, and a quick scan of the crowd relieved him further when he didn't spot Aden. He recognized Gerard instantly behind the small wooden stage that had been setup in the center of the square. The kooky priest appeared to be meeting with his fellow bachelors and bachelorettes, and Bismark moved towards them as he tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach that seemed to be growing in number with each step. Gerard almost shook with excitement when he noticed him approaching.

"Ohhh, I'm so happy that you volunteered this year! I'm willing to bet you'll bring in a hefty sum," Gerard cooed with a wink as Bismark blushed and silently asked himself what clergy in their right mind had willingly ordained this man into priesthood.

"Um, thank you," he said shyly. "I'm happy to do so." He probably would've felt guiltier for lying were he not about to undergo a horrendous humiliation for the sake of the church.

Gerard clasped his hands together. "That's so kind of you. I do hope you won't mind going first. Let's hop on stage and get started, shall we? I'll auction from the pulpit and you just stand to my left near the center. You only need to relax, smile and let me do all of the talking." Before he could object or even respond at all, Gerard's hand was on his shoulder, guiding him on-stage. He'd hoped for a little more time to ease himself into the idea of being auctioned off to a possible stranger for three hours, but he took a deep breath and held his head high as he took his first steps onto the platform. He thought of the courage badge on his chest and knew he was going to be fine.

As Gerard began addressing the crowd with welcoming words and an overview of the rules for the auction, Bismark was doing his best to keep smiling and make it appear as though he _didn't_ want bolt off of the stage. Being the center of attention was not something he enjoyed. All eyes were on him as he heard Gerard suggest the first bid, and he could feel redness creeping into his face. He continued his deep breaths. His shyness would not get the best of him.

"500!" shouted a familiar voice in the front of the crowd. His eyes searched for the source and he quickly discovered that it had belonged to Elektra, and Bismark breathed a sigh of relief. She was a sweet girl, someone he was already friendly with, and a little shy like him. The thought of an afternoon together with her was not unpleasant.

"550!" came another bid from a young girl he didn't recognize and pegged for a tourist based on her unfamiliar accent and foreign looking attire. He was hoping that Elektra would outbid her and rescue him from an uncomfortable afternoon with a stranger. His heart nearly leaped out of his chest when he heard the next bid from an unmistakable masculine voice that emanated from the very back of the crowd.

"I'll bid 1000!" It took Bismark a second to locate him in the back row, though he could pick that voice out amongst a million others, and sure enough he spotted a silver head of hair that stood out as the only in the crowd . Aden was smiling obliviously with his number raised high in the air as the crowd around him began to look confused, and a few low murmurs and giggles could be heard. A few moments passed in which the entire square seemed stunned, though none more than Bismark, until Gerard broke the silence.

"That's the spirit! It's all in the name of charity, after all! Do I hear 1100? 1050?" The crowd remained silent. The situation felt like too much for Bismark, who stood stiffly on the stage. This made no sense. What was he hoping for? What was he plotting? Under almost any other circumstances he would've been ecstatic at the idea of an afternoon with Aden, but recent events made him question his intentions. He didn't know what to expect, and it scared him. "Very well, 1000 gold it is. Congratulations to Aden, let's continue with the bidding."

Gerard made a motion signaling Bismark to step off of the stage. His legs felt weak, as though they might collapse beneath him, as he made his way down the steps and onto the ground again, eager to be out of the spotlight. Aden waved to him from across the square and began making his way towards him in a direct line, like a homing missile on the shortest path to its target. Bismark gulped and ran his fingers over the tip of the left wing on his courage badge. If only he'd stayed in bed this morning.

To be continued…


	5. Chapter 5

A/n: Okay, I know this is a speedy update for me when compared to how long it took me to post previous chapters, but you guys are so awesome for continuing to follow my story despite the infrequent updates and for leaving intelligent, well thought out reviews (seriously, the quality of my reviews for this story is amazing!). I'm so glad that there are people who love my story and it really motivates me to write. Many thanks for Stephy and Mori for still following my story despite how long it took for my last update. And Snow, Bismark is my favorite RF character ever, so I am quite happy that I've converted you into a fan (or at least made you start liking him, hehe). As always, I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

Chapter 5

As Aden nudged his way through the crowd and towards Bismark, he couldn't help but feel an incredible anxiety overtake him. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was an intense excitement that was almost too much to handle. It felt as though it might burst inside of him and shatter the calm and composed mask he wore on the surface. He might've stopped to consider how the feelings within him concerning Bismark had become so powerful if he hadn't been so captivated by them.

But grand excitement aside, he had a mission of utmost importance and a goal he would not lose sight of. There were answers hidden within Bismark that he not only wanted, but needed in a way that had become desperate. He'd spent too many nights awake searching his head for an answer to the mystery of just what his friend had been doing that night, and why he'd run away from Aden. His need seemed to stem from an urge to protect a friend who might be in danger, but there was also a budding obsession within Aden that he hadn't noticed yet.

He had the guarantee of Bismark's company for the next three hours so that Bismark could no longer avoid him. If things went smoothly enough, Aden hoped he would have the answers he sought very soon. Still, he knew the situation he was dealing with was delicate and required caution. He'd said he wouldn't press Bismark if he appeared uncomfortable, and he had no intentions of straying from his plan. With a few deep, calming breaths he quelled the excessive excitement which kept his heart beating much faster than the level headed young man was used to.

It wasn't long before he'd run out of groups of people to swerve between and he found himself out of the crowd and standing in front of Bismark, who'd been frozen in the same spot since he'd taken his first few steps off of the stage. They locked eyes for only a moment before the brunette averted his own and focused his gaze on a tiny black stain on the pavement by his feet. It made Aden smile. Bismark's shyness was something he'd come to appreciate on an island full of people who seemed to clamor for attention. "Hey Bismark," he said warmly. He saw Bismark's mouth open and move to create a response, but it was drowned in the sounds of louder voices talking amongst themselves.

Aden held up his index finger to indicate that he needed Bismark to wait a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out an impressive heap of gold. He counted out an amount worth 1000 in the palm of his hand and ran to Beatrix, who'd been sitting at a booth to the left of the stage distributing numbered signs for bidders and collecting money. She thanked him when he handed it to her carefully, and when he returned to Bismark he leaned towards him and said "It's a little loud here, even for me. Wanna get something to eat?" Though it was a holiday, Odette had decided to keep the restaurant running, which was rather fortunate as it was strangely the only restaurant on the tourist filled island.

Bismark nodded to indicate that he did, though he looked hesitant to Aden. _Of course he's hesitant_, he realized as he remembered Bismark's tear streaked face in the moonlight for what felt like the thousandth time. For a moment he felt a pang of guilt over cornering Bismark in this way and not waiting for him reveal the truth in his own time, when he was comfortable. But then again, as Sonja had said, he was definitely in some kind of trouble, and it seemed likely that Aden was the only one who'd seen any indication of it. He feared that waiting for Bismark could potentially have dire consequences, and he assured himself that he was making the right decision as he began to weave through the crowd and headed for the path that would take them away from the church square and towards the Inn. From time to time he threw a nervous glance over his should to ensure that Bismark was still behind him.

The walk there was largely silent, save for a remark Bismark had managed about the day's lovely weather. There was an unspoken tension between them, and Aden wondered what chance there was that his intentions were unknown. He couldn't imagine that Bismark expected to make it through the next three hours without being questioned about the bizarre incidents of that night. He knew he'd been avoiding Aden, and he was too sharp to not at least consider the possibility that Aden had bid on him hoping to prod some answers out of him while they spent time together.

The Inn was packed and noisy when they arrived. Most of the tables were filled with the unfamiliar faces of tourists, which wasn't uncommon on a warm, spring day, though Aden recognized some of the island's residents among them as well. He noticed a few people glancing at them with what he thought almost seemed like hostility or disgust, though he couldn't imagine why and chocked it up to his imagination. Aden usually enjoyed the open, boisterous atmosphere of Odette's restaurant and bar, but he found himself wishing for somewhere quiet and private instead, for Bismark's sake.

Lily was the only hostess on duty, and she barely had time to chat as she seated them at a small, square table against the wall. She brought them wine and bread while they decided what to order, which Aden was hoping might ease some of the awkwardness between them. He was surprised when it was Bismark who spoke first as he took his wine glass in his hand and brought it to his lips for his first sip.

"Um…I'd like to ask you something," he began with only slight hesitance. Aden was a bit taken aback. He hadn't expected Bismark to be the first to initiate a real conversation.

"Sure, you can always ask me anything," Aden replied, though he couldn't deny that there were certain things he hoped he wouldn't be asked about.

"Okay, then…" Aden wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not, but Bismark seemed to lower his voice when he spoke again. "Why did bid on me this afternoon? I mean, I definitely don't mind spending time with you, it's not like that at all," he explained quickly as a slight blush crept onto his cheek. "It's just that…there were a lot of beautiful girls there and I don't know why you would choose…" his voice trailed off into a silence that revealed his sadness for the first time since Aden had seen him today.

Aden was treading on thin ice and he knew it. "Eh, I can talk to them whenever I want," he said in a nonchalant tone that revealed just how little he cared for the idea. "But you seem to be hard to catch these days." It was the truth. Aden had gone into the general store once to try to talk to him after the incident, and Bismark had quickly busied himself in small work, feeding Aden excuses about shelves that needed restocked and work that left no time to talk. They'd been in the habit of talking several times a week since he and Aden had become friends, and even through his extreme insensitivity to the feelings of other he could tell that Bismark enjoyed the time they spent together. He loved watching his face light up with a rare smile when he brought him French Fries or made him laugh. "I've missed you." The declaration had come out unintentionally, and Aden hadn't even realized he'd felt that way until the words had left his mouth.

Bismark's heart had leapt at the words, and it took effort to conceal how moved he was. He hadn't even considered how his avoidance might make Aden feel. "I'm sorry," he apologized, his voice trembling slightly with buried emotion.

Aden gave him a slight smile that told him that it was alright, that he was forgiven and that no ill feelings were held against him. It amazed Bismark, and he wondered if Aden was the sort of person who could say so much with a single smile or if Bismark was the sort of person who'd studied him too closely, knew how to interpret his expressions too a little too well. "There's no need to be sorry," he said in a voice that was as calm and reassuring as he could willingly make it.

Bismark looked away for a moment, not to avoid Aden's gaze, but to gather his own thoughts. "Thanks, but I still want you to know that I'm sorry." A small part of him wanted to confess everything, but a larger part would not allow it. "I know it must be obvious to you by now, but…there are a lot of….difficult things going on in my life right now." He might not have been willing to tell Aden everything, but he had never lied to the person he cared about most and was not going to start now. "I'm kind of a mess, I suppose," he said truthfully with a sad, faint grin.

Aden hated it when Bismark talked about himself that way and had to concentrate to keep his tone cool. "You're not a mess, Bismark. Whatever you're dealing with is obviously really tough, and you hide it well. I never would've been able to guess you're struggling if I hadn't found you that night." He saw Bismark gulp anxiously when he mentioned the incident directly for the first time. "You're stronger than you know," he continued in an attempt to shift the conversation. It was not the right place or time to ask, not yet.

Bismark was silent for a few moments, and Aden had assumed he was working on a response in his head until he noticed him staring anxiously to his left. Aden followed his line of vision and noticed an unfamiliar middle aged man seated alone at the bar, shooting sour glances in their direction. "What the hell is that guy's problem?" he wondered aloud.

"He was at the auction," Bismark answered, and Aden noticed that the slight blush had returned to his face.

"Huh? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Um…well…" Bismark seemed uncomfortable as he searched for the appropriate words. Aden stared at him with a sincerely puzzled face and waited for him to continue. His thick-headedness was nothing short of incredible. "I'm pretty sure you're the only guy who bid on another guy at the auction today. Actually, you're probably the only guy who ever did that in any of auctions. Ever."

Aden's mind was finally beginning to put the pieces together. "Wait…are you serious? Is that why everybody at the auction was acting so weird?" Bismark nodded. "Wow. Who cares if I want to spend the afternoon with a guy instead of a girl?" He turned his head so that his eyes directly met the man at the bar's and spoke loudly. "I couldn't give less of a shit about whether or not anybody else approves. Yeah, I bid on a date with a dude. Deal with it." Aden was grateful when the man looked away from them and began stirring his food with his fork, a look of embarrassment upon his face. Unfortunately while he'd averted one person's stare, his raised voice and bold statement seemed to have drawn several others. Bismark was shifting uneasily in his seat. "Sorry," Aden said to him, hoping he hadn't made him terribly uncomfortable.

"Don't be. That was pretty cool. I wish I was that brave," he said.

"You are. You just don't know it yet," Aden responded, and Bismark smiled happily at him for the first time in days. A brilliant idea struck him. "Hey Bismark, what do you say we hightail it out of here and go somewhere a little less…intolerant and crowded?" He had just the place in mind, and he was brimming with excitement at the thought of taking Bismark there.

"I'm all for getting out of here, but where else can we go? This is the only open restaurant in Fenith, and I'm not sure a walk around the island together is such a great idea," he said gloomily.

Aden was already digging in his pockets for money. He plopped a pile of gold coins onto the table's surface, enough to pay for their wine and bread and to leave a generous tip for Lily. "It's a surprise," he said with a boyish grin. "I want to take you to my favorite place in the whole world. I promise you'll love it."

Bismark enjoyed seeing him like this, alight with excitement and anticipation. Things felt more comfortable between them then they had been in days, ever since that night, and Bismark almost forgot about the secret he was keeping. He was too elated to think about it. "I'd love to go," he answered, and together they left the Inn, too caught up in one another's company to mind the stares that followed them.


	6. Chapter 6

A/n: Whew! *wipes forehead* This was probably the most difficult chapter I've had to write so far. Scenes of dialogue seem to be something I struggle with, so I'm reallllllllly hoping I didn't disappoint anyone with this chapter. Please let me know how I did, and keep in mind that I am open to constructive criticism, so even if you didn't like it, don't be afraid to let me know! As always, thank you very much for reading.

Chapter 6

Bismark had been following Aden for only a block or so when he stopped in front of his home, much to the nervous brunette's chagrin. The dwelling's crisp, white and blue colors and lawn dotted with wildflowers failed to put him at ease. He'd tried to avoid the house since the night he'd broken the branch of Aden's maple tree, and being near it again sent the memory of that night flooding through him. The tree branch had been removed and the splintered wood swept away, but Bismark would notice the branch's absence until it grew back, if it did grow back at all.

Aden held open the front door and stepped aside for Bismark, who anxiously wondered what surprise awaited him within. _This_ was Aden's favorite place in the world? It didn't seem right. "We only need to stop in for a minute," Aden explained, as though he could hear the thoughts running through his companion's mind. He entered after Bismark and shut the door behind them.

It was Bismark's first time entering Aden's home, though he'd obviously snuck glances from outside before. The inside was surprisingly tidy, though the furniture and decorations all seemed to be suited for different themes and clashed with several different types of wood and colors uncomplimentary to one another. Nevertheless, it was clear that most of them had been made by Aden himself, and Bismark thought that the interior had a unique, undeniable sort of charm to it. He tried not to look at the workshop as he followed Aden up the creaky, wooden stairs.

Aden led Bismark through an open door to their left as they reached the second floor. "This is my room, though it's pretty much just the place where I sleep and store extra crafting materials," he explained as they took their first steps inside. It was a tiny room that was indeed cluttered with crafting materials. Smooth boards of oak and maple were stacked against the walls, and even what appeared to be the nightstand at his bedside was buried in swatches of multicolored fabric that piled at least a foot high.

But all of these details were almost invisible to Bismark, whose gaze had settled upon something far more intriguing: Near the back wall of Aden's bedroom was a door that looked quite out of place. It emitted a green glow that was almost unearthly and was standing on its own, not embedded in any wall where it might lead to some place within the house but attached only to the floor. Without thinking, Bismark moved towards it like a bug drawn to bright light. Aden smiled knowingly as he watched the shy brunette study the door cautiously as though it might abruptly open up and suck him inside at any moment. He slid his arm behind the door, into the five inch gap that separated it from the wall. "What…is this?" Bismark asked, his voice brimming with curiosity and wonderment.

Aden grinned. "Only the door to my favorite place. Are you ready to go?" Bismark couldn't bring himself to do more than gape silently at the door while trying to sort through the intense bewilderment that was starting to overcome him. He wondered if Aden had somehow gone insane, or if he was playing some kind of elaborate trick on him.

"Your favorite place is your bedroom? If we walk through the door, we'll just end up on the other side," Bismark remarked, feeling silly for pointing out something that he thought should've been glaringly obvious.

"It would seem that way, but there's something special about this door. Pass through it and not only will we not be in my room anymore, we won't even be on Fenith Island," Aden explained enthusiastically.

"How can that be? That would totally defy all logic!" the brunette retorted. Despite his claim, he was hoping that he was wrong. Aden's excitement was beginning to rub off on him.

Aden raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You're questioning logic on an island occupied by a dragon guardian who talks to its human residents, where giant golems sprout out of seeds and the citizens tolerate a mayor who does nothing but dig in her back yard and eat food all day?"

It was a valid point, Bismark had to admit. Before he could respond, Aden grasped the doorknob and pulled the door open. A blinding white light came forth from the frame where they should have been able to see through it, to the other side where Aden's bedroom wall was. Instead there was only the light, opaque and mysterious and yet somehow inviting. Bismark's slack jawed leer was shattered by the astonishment of it all. "You're sure it's safe?"

His delighted companion nodded. "I wouldn't have you walk through it if I wasn't one hundred percent sure." When he noticed the uneasiness still lingering in Bismark's eyes, he added, "Trust me?"

Bismark did trust Aden, and he wanted no part in any action that might indicate otherwise. He inhaled deeply and steadied himself. "I do trust you," he replied sincerely.

"I'm glad. I'll go in first, and I want you to follow." Bismark indicated that he understood and was willing with a quick nod. He watched Aden casually step inside and move through the door fluidly, with no resistance at all as though it were a completely ordinary door. Though indeed he did not come out on the other side, and Bismark found himself alone in Aden's bedroom. He tried not to think as he followed Aden's footsteps.

Moving through the white light had been quicker and simpler than he'd expected. It felt like walking through air, though his vision was blinded by the light's intensity, and it caused him to feel dizzy as he emerged onto the other side. He was relieved to feel firm, even ground beneath his feet as he stumbled forward, a bit winded from the experience that had left his vision blank. He tilted his head back as he found his balance, and the bright blue sky above him began to fill in the darkness.

When he looked down, he saw a vast, wide ocean before him that stretched into the distance for as far as his eyes could see. The brilliant sun reflected off of its surface, and it glittered as a slight breeze sent tiny, uneven waves rolling through it. The sea was dotted with islands of various sizes and land, some flat with grassy plains and others with jagged mountains or lush, dense forests. He even thought he could make out Fenith in the far off distance.

He managed to pry his focus from the ocean that was a long drop below where he stood when he finally noticed Aden, standing a few feet away. "Quite the view, huh?"

"I've never seen anything like it," Bismark answered honestly. Until now, the highest viewpoint he'd ever visited had been the one from the top of the church's belltower, and he hadn't even been off of Fenith Island in years. A question nagged at him. "Where are we?"

Aden smirked. "You don't recognize this place? We're at the back of the golem's head." Bismark immediately ran around the corner to the front of the golem. It was far more familiar from the front, and he immediately recognized the wooden door in its center as the one he used to enter the barn, where he dropped off large orders of monster cookies from time to time. He spun around on his heel and saw that Aden had followed him.

"Of course I recognize it...from the front, anyway," he said as he began to move about the front deck, pausing occasionally to take in the view from a particular angle. Though the entire town had spent weeks gawking at it when it had first appeared, being atop the golem when it was docked at the island had never felt exciting. But out here in the sea, where it stood upright, awakened, and ready to tread deep ocean waters at command, it was exhilarating. Bismark wasn't sure if it was the top-of-the-mountain viewpoint that allowed him to take in miles of open ocean with a single glance, or the overwhelming feeling of possibility that he got as he stood atop it, but being on the golem now, with Aden and no other company, was magical. He took a seat on the ledge of the platform that was raised only a few feet above the rest of the front deck below, by the barn door. The breeze tousled his hair wildly and cooled the skin on his face that had been growing hot in the sunlight. "I can see why this is your favorite place."

"I thought you'd like it," Aden replied as he made his way to the ledge where Bismark was seated and joined him at his right. He left only a few inches between them, and Bismark might have noticed if he hadn't been so busy enjoying the sunlight and the gale. He was staring ahead, studying the ocean and all of the islands that filled it, and Aden let a few seconds of comfortable silence pass between while he watched his friend closely. Bismark's legs that dangled over the ledge were swinging back and forth in no particular rhythm, a telling symbol of how unrestricted and open he was feeling, traits that Aden had only seen emerge in Bismark a few times even within their close friendship. He bore a mild, relaxed smile that made Aden feel warm inside. The breeze kept sweeping that unruly, chestnut hair over Bismark's eyes and mouth, concealing his beaming face from Aden's view, and he had to resist the urge to reach over and brush it aside with each gust of the wind. Bismark was happy, and he didn't want to lose a moment of it, especially to something as trivial as a breeze.

"It's really peaceful, isn't it?" Aden asked.

"Yeah, definitely!" Bismark replied with uncharacteristic zeal. "It's exciting at the same time, but I guess that effect probably wore away for you a long time ago. Still, I'm kind of envious."

Aden leaned back and eyed the distant clouds that floated above him. He extended his arm upward and opened his hand as though he were reaching for something. "I don't have much reason to come here anymore, aside from the occasional errand for someone in town, or a trip to check up on my crops." The realization was new, and it made him feel empty. "But it makes me feel good to be here. I like living on Fenith, but sometimes I just need to be alone, or I need to be surrounded by the ocean, miles away from home. Even I have times when I feel small, but being up here makes me feel like I'm king of the world, as cheesy as it sounds," the silver haired boy explained with a chuckle.

"Or like the onion prince," came a murmur from Aden's left that was so low he nearly hadn't heard it.

"Onion…prince?" Bismark immediately felt embarrassed by the inquiry. He didn't want to talk about the memory. It would make him seem foolish, or childish, he predicted. But then again, this was Aden. If there was anyone he wanted to share his most painful, embarrassing things with, it had to be Aden. His friend had never been anything but gentle and accepting towards him, even lately, in light of everything that had transpired between them. It was one of many reasons why Bismark had fallen in love with him.

"Mmhmm," he answered finally as he continued to look out into the sea. He'd always had a bad habit of avoiding eye contact. It helped the shyness ebb away, helped him say things that were difficult for him to say. "When I was a kid, I was even more shy and quiet than I am now, if you can believe it." Aden could believe it, but he didn't say so and waited for Bismark to continue. "In the cave by the beach back on Fenith, the kids all used to play and pretend that it was a castle. They'd assign roles for each other and play them out. The strongest boys would always be king, and the prettiest girls got to be queen. I was a bit of an outcast, and when I tried to join in they told me and there was no job in a castle for nerdy, quiet, girly boy."

"Jerks." Aden offered with a sympathetic grin. He hated the idea of Bismark as a child, innocent and sweet and being bullied by less sensitive children.

"They were just kids. Besides, Sierra gave them hell about it later." Aden smiled at the thought. Sierra was irresponsible and always dodging work, but she was a great sister. "But anyway, there used to be a huge garden by the restaurant, where your house stands now. I took it pretty hard when they rejected me, but I decided to play by myself anyway. I made a flag out of some cloth and a stick, and I stuck it in the center of the garden, in the onion patch - well, I called it my castle back then. When the other kids saw me there, they started calling me The Onion Prince. I think it was supposed to hurt, but I sort of liked it. The onion patch became to me what this golem is to you: a place to get away, where I felt like the king of the world - or rather the Onion Prince, I guess."

"The Onion Prince…" Aden repeated. He liked the sound of it. "If it were catchier, I think I'd start calling you by it," he joked. When Bismark looked a bit hurt, he rushed to explain. "No, not like those kids were using it! I mean…I really like the meaning of the name." He thought carefully about what to say to undo any damage he might've done. "When they wouldn't let you into their castle, you made your own. They made up a name to try and hurt you, but you saw the positive in it and took it up. To me, it symbolizes your resilience."

Bismark almost had to try not to laugh. He laid down next to Aden, feeling far more at ease and natural than he had all day, and stared into the sky. "I dunno about that. I think you're taking positive thinking a little overboard."

"I can't believe I'm being criticized for excessive positive thinking by the person who managed to play castle in an onion patch," Aden pointed out, and they shared a light laugh that traveled into the open air, audible only to them two of them. He tore his gaze from the sky and looked to his side at Bismark, who was looking back at him. He had a faint smile and a look in his eyes that Aden almost thought could be described as dreamy.

It wasn't obvious behind the large, round glasses that he wore, but as Aden studied his eyes from such a short distance, he found them stunning. They were large with soft, rounded corners and long, thick lashes. The golden brown coloring was also quite striking. Though he would never say it aloud, he thought that perhaps he understood why those cruel children had chosen the insult of "girly boy." He had a face of beautiful, feminine features from his pale, pink lips to the glossy chestnut hair that adorned the top of his head. If it weren't for his awkwardness and questionable style choices, Bismark would undoubtedly have many admirers, Aden contemplated.

He rose, feeling slightly unnerved by the moments they'd let slip by staring into one another's eyes and the thoughts that had run through his mind during them. He extended his arms into the air for a long stretch. An unpleasant thought came crashing down on him, though it was Bismark who dared to speak it aloud first.

"I think the three hours you bought are up," the brunette remarked in a neutral tone.

"Oh…right. I guess I should let you go, huh?" Aden asked, hoping that his disappointment wasn't too apparent. His goal of discovering Bismark's secret hadn't even been on his mind. He'd simply been enjoying his company so much that the thought of parting now filled him with sadness.

"You don't have to let me go. I don't want to go," Bismark said casually, surprised at his boldness. His proclamation made Aden happy.

"Then don't. Have you ever been to Summer Island?" The idea had already taken hold of him, and he was on his feet with his hand stretched out towards Bismark, who took it eagerly in his own.

To be continued….

A/n: Sorry to slip an author's note in at the end of a chapter like this, but I just wanted to say that I hope this chapter didn't feel too…meandering or boring. I am building up to something, I promise! Please keep reading and reviewing, and hopefully I won't let you down! :D


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